


like branches in a storm

by forfree



Category: RPF - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Morning Sex, newlyweds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:52:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8924770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forfree/pseuds/forfree
Summary: Jordan and Beyoncé are newlyweds. That's all there is to this.





	

Jordan’s bare body is tangled with his wife Beyoncé’s as they lie together, sleeping peacefully. This isn’t the first time they’ve slept in the same bed, but it is the first time they’re doing it as a married couple. The day before, they’d had a wonderful wedding, and the celebration had gone well into the wee hours of the morning.

 

As he feels her body move against his in her sleep, a low, tired, and reactionary groan comes from Jordan. He slowly wakes and heaves a deep internal sigh at the annoyance that is his morning wood. The fact that he now has a wife lying next to him makes him jump over his feelings of irritation caused by his own body.

 

“Morning, Mrs. Ullman,” Jordan says, wrapping an arm around Beyoncé. While he sounds groggy, the warmth in his voice is unmistakeable. 

 

Beyoncé shifts around quietly before turning to look at him. She smiles. He rubs at his eyes, and she just watches. “It makes your skin stretch out and get weird prematurely,” she would always tell him whenever he asked why she’d never touch her eyes.

 

“Hi, Jordan,” Beyoncé says, tired and happy as ever. She stares at him for a short while before she grins. 

 

Jordan returns a smile of his own and leaves a trail of kisses from Beyoncé’s cheek down to her shoulder. He nips at the soft skin there and breathes in; she smells like a pleasant mixture of sweat and the perfume she’d had on the day before. His facial hair scratches against her skin and she laughs.

 

“Hey, sir, watch it,” Beyoncé tells him, unable to keep from giggling.

 

“What’s wrong?” Jordan asks, laughing quietly.

 

“I’ve got a husband.”

 

Jordan chuckles. “Oh, yeah? Do you, now?” 

 

Beyoncé makes a noise of agreement, biting her lip to keep from laughing any more. “Yeah, and he doesn’t take too kindly to people being on me like this.”

 

“He sounds pretty jealous, I don’t know if you should be fucking with that guy,” Jordan says into her neck humorously, teeth grazing her skin as he kisses her there. “I mean, it’s clear that he doesn’t even let you have friends, no?”

 

Beyoncé shakes her head. “Nope, and worst of all? He hates guys with morning breath,” she answers with a snort.

 

Jordan sharply sucks in a breath and exhales a laugh. “Damn, that hurt.”

 

He rolls out of bed, shuffles to the master bathroom of their hotel suite, and snatches a tube of toothpaste. He squeezes some out on his tongue, cringes at the way it goes down, and hands the toothpaste to Beyoncé. 

 

Beyoncé snorts. “Really, J?” She does exactly what Jordan had done and laughs.

 

“Now you can kiss me with minimal disgust,” Jordan says.

 

“What am I gonna do with you?” Beyoncé replies with a laugh, pecking Jordan on the lips.

 

“Don’t know, baby, but you’re gonna have to find out. You’re stuck with me forever,” Jordan answers, laying on his side.

 

“I think I can deal. I kinda like you, I think I’ll keep you around.”

 

“That’s good. Can you think about what to do about something else, though?” Jordan asks, pressing his hips against her thigh. He bites his lip at the friction and the deep ache it causes in the pit of his stomach. 

 

He’s so hard that it almost hurts to even think about. He figures that it wouldn’t hurt to kill two birds with one stone by helping himself and being in bed with his wife longer at the same time. 

 

Beyoncé slicks her hand up with spit and strokes Jordan lazily, peppering kisses on his cheek. “As your wife, I gotta take care of you, baby. It’s in the job description,” she murmurs in between pecks. “So don’t worry about me right now, okay? I’ll get mine as soon as you get yours. Let me put you first.”

 

Jordan moans quietly and puts his lips on hers. The kiss he and Beyoncé share quickly turns from a sweet, chaste one to one that’s a satisfying mess of teeth and tongues. Beyoncé pushes his chest so that he lies on his back.

 

“You gonna let me take care of you?” she coos. 

 

Jordan nods. “Please.”

 

Beyoncé straddles him, one leg on each side of his chest. She takes the tip of his dick into her mouth and he sighs. He grabs her ass, his fingers digging into it easily.

 

“Beyoncé, I love you so much,” Jordan says, hissing immediately after he speaks as Beyoncé drags her tongue up and down him lazily and takes him into her mouth completely.

 

She alternates between swallowing around him and bobbing her head. All Jordan can hear are the filthy noises her work is producing and the way they both breathe harshly out of their noses at the same time. He encourages her accordingly. When her teeth lightly graze against him, he mumbles a quiet “fuck,” under his breath and she moans around him in response.

 

After a few minutes, she comes off of him with a pop. “You’re only saying that because my ass is in your face and I’m sucking your dick, A.K.A. a few of the only things you ever want from me,” she tells him with a laugh.

 

“Nonsense, all I care about is whether or not you love me, on-demand blowjobs and a fat ass are just bonuses,” Jordan says, watching Beyoncé as she turns around to face him. 

 

Beyoncé kisses him sweetly. “Romantic.”

 

“I try,” Jordan replies.

 

Beyoncé laughs, holding herself steady as she slides down his length. The both of them sigh when she’s fully settled. She’s tight around him, and she moans as she grinds against him, her hips moving back and forth leisurely. 

 

Jordan groans and his hands rest on Beyoncé’s waist. “Baby,” he says quietly, his breathing picking up as her pace does. “Fuck.”

 

“Feel good, honey?” Beyoncé asks between low whines, her voice music to his ears.

 

He doesn’t feel the need to vocalize his pleasure, so he figures that a nod should suffice. 

 

“Talk to me,” Beyoncé says, starting to lift her hips and come down particularly roughly. “C’mon, daddy, speak up.”

 

“Feels so good,” Jordan answers, biting back a rather loud moan at her suddenly harsh pace. 

 

He shouldn’t have to, though, because the suite they’re in takes up the entire top floor of their hotel. There’s no neighbors sharing the wall and listening to them; it’s just Jordan and Beyoncé selfishly enjoying each other.

 

“Get on your back,” Jordan tells Beyoncé.

 

She does as he asks and he rolls over on top of her.

 

“J, you’re crushing me,” Beyoncé says with a laugh.

 

Jordan hums happily. “Good,” he replies, chuckling and pushing himself up so he can support himself and slowly ease into her.

 

He sets a lazy, tremendously slow pace. Their eyes meet; Beyoncé bites her lip and wraps her arms around him. 

 

“You’re so pretty,” he tells her, resting his forehead against hers. “You’re beautiful, and now I’ve officially got you all to myself, I can be even more selfish. It’s legal, on paper and shit, so nobody can tell me no.”

 

“I’m yours,” Beyoncé whines, “All yours, J.”

 

His head falls to her shoulder and he groans into her neck.

 

“Jordan, you’re so good, baby,” Beyoncé tells him as he fucks her. She sounds increasingly frantic and she’s tugging gently at his hair.

 

He breathes in, taking in how sweet she smells. Her hair grazes against his cheek.

 

“Beautiful girl, you’re so lovely,” Jordan whispers, making sure to go deeper than before. “Talk to me, angel.”

 

Beyoncé bites her lip to keep herself from making any noise, looking at Jordan with vibrant and kind eyes. Her breathing is heavier, quicker. “J, I’m-”

 

Jordan takes his time as he fucks her, unhurried and wanting to make the moment last as long as possible for her. “Wait.”

 

Beyoncé groans in frustration. “Baby,” she begins.

 

Jordan fills her to the hilt, circling his hips and talking in her ear. “Yes?”

 

A choked-out gasp comes from her. “Please,” she moans.

 

“You want me to come with you, don’t you?” Jordan says softly. 

 

“I don't care,” Beyoncé mumbles. 

 

“I care,” Jordan replies.

 

He contradicts himself by rubbing her clit while he rolls his hips, making sure every thrust is deep, slow, exact. Beyoncé is a mess of whimpers and pleas. A thin layer of sweat covers their bodies.

 

Jordan pulls out, laughing when Beyoncé grumbles about it. His head goes between her legs, and he’s eagerly licking and sucking at her clit. He pushes a finger in, taking his time before adding a second one. He curves them upward and a noisy whine abruptly comes from her.

 

His head comes up and he makes eye contact with her. “You’re so gorgeous, how’d I get so fucking lucky?” he asks, his fingers still working in and out of her.

 

Her eyes are screwed shut and she’s running her hands through his hair. 

 

“Look at me, angel,” Jordan tells her. 

 

Beyoncé obliges, her face twisted into an expression of blissful satisfaction.

 

“Gonna be a doll and come for me, babe?” Jordan asks. “I wanna hear you say my name in that pretty ass way you always do when you know you can’t take anymore.”

 

Jordan’s fingers quicken, and he dives his head back in between Beyoncé’s legs so he can taste her again. Beyoncé’s moans become higher and closer behind one another. 

 

Her breath hitches and she comes undone, squeaking out Jordan's name and grinding against his fingers as she rides her orgasm out. 

 

“Absolutely beautiful, Mrs. Ullman,” Jordan says, kissing up Beyoncé’s body and stopping when she grabs his wrist. 

 

She sucks on his fingers, moaning around them as she tastes herself. “Lay down, babe,” Beyoncé says somewhat hoarsely.

 

Jordan does as he’s told, and as soon as he’s on his back, she spits into her hand and strokes him slowly, squeezing gently at the base of his dick and drawing a low groan out of him. 

 

“Told you I would take good care of you, J,” Beyoncé tells him, leaning down to kiss him.

 

He whines into their lazy and passionate kiss, his hips bucking in time with her as she works to make him come.

 

“What a catch,” Beyoncé says with awe, “Smart, funny, handsome, loving. How’d I get so lucky?” 

 

His eyes meet hers, and he can see his entire world in them. She lies on her side next to him, whispering in his ear about how good he is to her and how she can't wait to spend her life with him. Arousal builds in the pit of his stomach, similar to a cord being stretched so far that it’ll snap if it’s pulled another inch. 

 

“You make me so happy, you know that?”

 

Jordan nods quickly, breathing out loudly. 

 

“You’re doing so well, you look so gorgeous, I love you so much,” Beyoncé says coolly.

 

With that, Jordan comes on his chest and stomach with a broken groan, his hips lifting off of the bed. He can hear the sound of his heartbeat in his ears, pounding away. 

 

“Baby,” is the only thing Jordan can find to say as he kisses Beyoncé fervently. 

 

She leans up to lick his come off of his torso, and when she falls back next to him again, she’s looking just as tired as when they’d started. 

 

“Good?” Beyoncé asks. 

 

“Good, Mrs. Ullman.”

 

Beyoncé giggles. "Don't wear that out, Jordan."

 

"But it's so nice to say. I like the way it just rolls off my tongue so easily," Jordan says as he pulls Beyoncé closer to him. She rests her head on his chest and their legs intertwine.

 

"I want out, you're so lame," Beyoncé jokes.

 

"Bullshit, I'm cool as hell," Jordan says with a laugh.

 

"Debatable."

 

Jordan snorts. "We haven't even been married for a week and you're making me doubt myself."

 

Beyoncé shakes her head and smiles. "Jordan?"

Jordan sighs contentedly and plays with Beyoncé's thick, dark hair. It tickles his chest and he wrinkles his nose at the feeling. "What's up?"

 

"I love you."

 

"I love you, too."

  
  
  



End file.
